


worth a thousand words

by ohthelinsanity



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, mina looks like a eren & mikasa love child so I made her their child lmao
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-31
Updated: 2015-01-08
Packaged: 2018-03-04 12:17:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3067574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohthelinsanity/pseuds/ohthelinsanity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mikasa trades a desk, co-workers, and stale coffee for a different desk, different co-workers and staler coffee. After she and her best friend wound up with an expected pregnancy in the middle of college, Mikasa was confident that this would be her life: working 9 to 5 to pay the bills for her and her daughter. But the new magazine she works at involves handling photographs by well-known photojournalist Armin Arlert, an adventurous traveler who's been around the world and back more times than he can count. And as he keeps sending her photos and letters of the world she's never really seen, she discovers inside herself an itch to explore the world that she never knew she had. If only she had the chance.</p><p>Armin Arlert just might be her chance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. prologue

Mikasa knew that Eren was a lot of things: a long-time friend, a hardworking firefighter, and as of almost six years ago, the father of her child. But what he wasn’t always was _rational._

Except for (annoyingly) today.

He had a half-eaten handmade sub from the deli in his hand as they walked the various aisles trying to grocery shop. Their daughter had long abandoned sitting in the cart and instead took to trying to sneak boxes of cookies in the cart while Mikasa wasn’t looking.

At five years old, she hadn’t quite mastered the art of discretion.

“It sounds like a _really_ good opportunity, Mik,” he reminded her for the _umpteenth time_ just as he managed to stop Mina from climbing up the shelves to reach the Oreos.

Mikasa resisted slumping over the cart and whining in frustration. She settled with a curt, “Yes, I know,” as she told her daughter to grab a box of saltines. “But,” she lowered her voice, “It’s a big move. You’d….well, you’d probably have to come with me.”

Eren shrugged. “That’s fine. I can get a transfer to a station in Trost, no problem.”

“Mina will have to change schools.”

“She’s in kindergarten—she’ll manage.”

“We’ll have to sell our apartments—“

“Mama, can I have this?”

Mikasa and Eren looked down to see her holding a different box of cookies. “Not today, sweetie.”

She changed tactics and looked up at Eren. “Daddy, can I have this?”

Eren grinned. “Nice try, but you heard Mom. Not today.”

She pouted, but otherwise listened, stuffing the cookies messily back on their shelf. “Okay Mikasa, forget about the apartments and the school districts and _think_ about this, yeah?” Eren jumped ahead and grabbed the front of the grocery cart, stopping her in her tracks. “This is a job at _Titan_ magazine. Living the life, heading up the…..the uh,” he scrunched his face up, thinking. “Damn, what’d you call it again?”

“Digital and Negative Assets.”

“Come on, don’t be such a Debbie Downer about it!”

Mikasa caught her bottom lip between her lip, fighting off a laugh. “No, negatives that’s a….photography term. It’s film.”

“Sounds old-fashioned. I thought everything was on the computers now.”

“Mama, can I have _this?”_

Eren nor Mikasa had to look. “No, baby,” the said at the same time, and Mina let out a little whine, dropping a store-brand box of graham crackers on to the floor before Mikasa told her she had to be good and put it back where she found it.

He let go of the cart and let her roll it down the rest of the aisle, but not without poking a little fun. “Finally, a job where you can kinda-sorta put that art degree to use—OW!” he cried, any traces of pain caught in a laugh as he raced away to prevent another pinch to his arm. He ran down to meet Mina at the end of the aisle and plucked her up in the air and put her on her shoulders, to her obvious delight. “Did Mama tell you about her new job? We’re going to move to the city!”

“Eren!”

He went on. “She’s gonna work with pretty pictures, work in a big fancy office with lots of windows….”

“I doubt I'll have windows.”

Her words went unnoticed. Mina clapped her little hands on top of her father’s head. “Yay Mama!” Eren echoed her energy and started jumping up and down as they chanted together. “Yay Mama, Yay Mama, Yay Mama!”

They drew the attention of others, but their antics were met with smiles, not frowns. “Okay, enough you two,” she laughed lightly, swatting at Eren to stop. He let Mina down on the floor again, holding her hand to stop her from grabbing anymore boxes of cookies.

Mikasa thought that would be the end of it but then minutes later Eren was plopping Mina in the cart next to the salad mixes and the bags of apples. “Face it Mikasa: you don’t have one good reason to take this job.”

She did. “It’s a _risk._ The longevity of print-only magazines isn’t as strong as it used to be—“

“UghhhhAAHHH.” His shout was loud as he through his head back and wailed. This time, when onlookers looked at the fuss, they were frowning. “All I hear is nonsense. Mikasa, please. Take this job. I really think it’ll be good for you.”

“Really.”

“Really, really,” he nodded. “Just think of the new pool.”

The carts wheels squeaked as she turned and went down the next aisle. “Pool?” She wrinkled her nose. “I won’t be swimming…”

Eren’s grin was devious as he waggled his brow. “Pool of potential _suitors.”_

She rolled her eyes, tried to push the cart over Eren’s foot—she missed. “Christ, don’t start with this,” she grumbled under her breath.

He leaned in and whispered so their daughter couldn’t hear. “A hot new _step-daddy_ for Mina.”

This time she aimed for his foot and hit it. “If you think she needs one so bad, _you_ work on it.”

“Don’t try and turn this around.”

“Then stop trying to set me up!”

Eren held his hands up in surrender. “Fine, fine. Be single and miserable for the rest of your life.”

Suddenly, she wished she was in the canned food aisle instead of the cereal aisle—Campbell’s would hurt a lot more than Frosted Flakes when she threw it at his head. But, she managed to keep her anger in check as they finished grocery shopping.

The topic of her job was dropped until they Eren had finished his sub and they had reached the check-out where there were stacks of magazines available for purchase. “Alright, honey,” Eren grunted as he lifted Mina out of the cart and put her back on the ground. “Let’s see if we can find the magazine Mama’s going to work on, okay?”

“Okay!”

Mikasa deviated from the checkouts and went through the racks, past the stacks of celebrity tabloids to the far end with the worldly and news type magazine. Eren helped Mina pick the correct one. “Huh,” Eren said to himself as the thumbed through the pages, Mina losing interest as soon as she saw pictures of canyons and mountains and things that weren’t toys. “Whoa!” he stopped on a feature page, photographing a landscape in what looked like the Amazon. “This photo is amazing.”

Leaning over his shoulder, Mikasa took a closer look. “That’s an Armin Arlert.”

“Armin Arlert,” Eren repeated, grin slow to grow on his face. “I may not remember a  _thing_ about what you studied in college but I sure remember Armin Arlert. You had his photographs all over your wall.”

Slightly embarrassed, Mikasa tried to play it cool with a shrug as she snatched the magazine from his hands. “Well, he’s an accomplished photojournalist and his pictures are some of the best out there right now.” Her eyes flicked up at him. “He’s quite famous, you know. In his own little…” her fingers danced around. “Realm.”

“How famous?”

“Probably as famous as Andy Warhol? Jackson Pollock?” Maybe not that famous, but to her he was. It's not like Eren would be able to tell.

“Mik, if it’s not one of them swirly paintings by Van Gogh, I’m not going to know who it is.” Nailed it.

Mikasa elected to ignore him as she sifted through the magazine. There were a few more photos of Armin’s, revolving around a story about environmental conservation. “I wonder…”

She heard Eren yelp, something about trying to make sure Mina didn’t tear any photos out of a magazine. “Wonder what?” he asked absently, picking up Mina and putting the magazine back on the rack.

With one last gander at the cover, she tossed the magazine in the cart. “Wonder if I’ll get to see any of his pictures. The originals.”

Eren gasped. “Only one way to find ouuttttt,” he sung. He gasped again, this time accompanied with an urgent grabbing of her forearm. “Accept the offer! What if you get to _meet_ him!?”

“Doubt it,” Mikasa grumbled. After all, an obsession with his art had led to enough Google searches to know that Armin was a wanderer, a traveler without a home. “No one ever knows where he is.”

With a shrug, Eren grabbed the cart and headed back to the check-out. “Send him a picture of _you_ and trust me, he’ll be dying to come in to the office.”

“I seriously doubt he’ll want a picture of me, Eren.”

“He will if you take off your clothes.”

Mikasa moaned. “Mina, cover your ears Daddy’s being a dummy again.”

“Hey! Don’t call me a dummy in front of her.”

“I call it like I see it.” With a quick grab of his coat, she reached into his pocket and grabbed his wallet. “Say thank you honey, dinner’s on the dummy, tonight.”

Mina giggled. "Hooray! Thank you!”

A heavy sigh. “…You’re welcome.”


	2. Chapter 2

It was a struggle, but Mikasa managed to open the door, arms full of groceries. “Dad?” She called, walking in and kicking the door shut behind her, taking her time to set all the groceries on the counter—there were eggs somewhere in there and he’d have her head if she broke them. “Dad!”

“I’m in here,” he father answered from the living room, tone bored as always. Mikasa peeked behind the small kitchenette counters and saw Levi sitting in his chair, new glasses framing his eyes as he read the paper.

Unpacking the groceries, Mikasa kept sneaking glances at her father. “How are the new glasses treating you? They look nice.”

He rolled his eyes—not that she saw, but she could practically hear him do it. She had to bite her lips to keep from laughing. “They’re just fine, thank you.” A short pause as she heard him ruffling the paper and folding it carefully crease by crease. “Where’s the rest of the gang?”

“Thought you could use the quiet,” Mikasa smiled lightly, reaching up on the tips of her toes to grab a box of teabags off the top shelf: Earl Grey, his favorite. Eren must have put them up there by mistake, because there was no way Levi could have reached those on his own. Although he never said, she knew that sometimes Mina’s loud…everything was a little too much. Put Eren on top of it, and not even morphine could probably kick his migraine to the curb.

The kettle on the stove, she kept putting away the groceries until it started whistling a loud and high-pitched tune. “There’s some tea up in the—“

“Already got it,” Mikasa chimed in, pouring hot water in his favorite cup: a hand-painted mug Mina gave him a few months ago with a chip in the handle. It was the only broken or unsightly thing Levi had kept in his apartment in years. Not even Mikasa’s art projects from elementary school ever lasted in their house.

After a short argument which consisted of Levi insisting he join her at the kitchen table and she arguing that he stay exactly where he was, Mikasa won and set his steaming cup of tea beside his recliner chair. The only other seat in the room—a couch on the far side—seemed too far for the moment, so she settled on the arm rest of his chair, earning her a suspicious glare.

“I’ve got something to tell you,” Mikasa said slowly, suddenly not sure how to break the news to him. She stalled by taking a long sip of her tea—hardly steeped and still burning hot.

Levi looked bored again. “You’re pregnant again, aren’t you?”

Hot boiling tea almost surged out her nose. “No,” she hissed,” trying to wipe the hot tingling feeling she felt in her nostrils with the palm of her hand. “God, no.”

“Are you sure? You’re looking a little…”

“ _Dad_.”

Her father reached for his own cup of tea—his hand shook. “Then what is it?”

“I got a new job.”

He blinked. “That’s it?” He took a sip, closing his eyes. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” she replied on reflex. “It’s a photography job. Sort of. Have you heard of Titan Magazine?”

Another sip. Then, “Yes, of course,” he drawled and instantly, she understood where this was going. “Don’t tell me it’s another desk job.”

The chair leaned back with her weight as she nudged him with her thigh. “Pho-tog-ra-phy,” each syllable emphasized as patronizingly as possible. “Not quite a desk job. I’ll be managing all the photography submissions, developing and touching up photos for print.” She gave him another teasing nudge, this time a light bump of her knuckles to his shoulder. “You know, putting that art degree to some use that you paid for me to get?”

Of course, Levi only latched on to the word _manager._ “You’re a manager now? About fucking time. You sure are bossy enough.”

Ugh. Eren had told her the same thing. “I’ll be directly overseeing maybe one person.”

“Even better,” and she swore Levi actually started smiling. “People are a nuisance. The fewer to look over, the easier it is.”

Mikasa couldn’t really argue with that. She eyed his teacup and asked, “Do you want another cup?” Trying to maintain her chipper attitude she added, “I can make one while I start dinner. I brought stuff to make that chicken dish you like so much.”

Instantly, his eyes narrowed.

“Alright,” he growled, though she could tell he seemed tired. “Cut the shit. What else is there?”

Her father was never fond of beating around the bush. Setting her own tea cup on the side table, she slid off the arm chair and kneeled in front of Levi’s chair, one hand on his knee. “I have to move. The office is in Trost.”

“Shiganshina is too far. You’ll have to move.”

She squeezed his knee before giving it a little pat or two. “Right,” she drawled, making sure to keep his gaze. “Which means you’ll have to move too.”

A scowl grew on his face. “No.”

Mikasa sighed. “Dad, come on, be reasonable.”

He tried to push her hand away, but his leg was too weak to put up a fight. “I’m _recovering,”_ he snarled. “I know it’s taking a damn long time, but I’m out the fucking wheelchair now. I can get by without you.”

She hated this. She absolutely hated this. Levi was a proud man, and the accident had taken its toll and then some. “Dad,” she whispered, giving his knee another squeeze; he flinched. “I still have to buy your groceries.”

Levi didn’t say anything.

Silence was an opportunity she wouldn’t pass up. “Eren of course is coming, so maybe we can get you an apartment close to us, one with an elevator. It’ll be easier on your legs.” When she gave a little smile, it felt forced. “I think a change in scenery will do you some good. A new town certainly sounds nice.”

Still, nothing.

“But, until we can get a real nice one,” she said softly. “I think it’d be best if you lived with me.”

Levi groaned, and closed his eyes. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

“Nope,” she smiled, this time a little more easily as she stood up, grabbing her cup and heading to the kitchen to start dinner. Huh. Maybe that had gone easier than she had thought.

“I guess it isn’t so bad,” Levi called after her. “If I live with you, I can watch Mina. You don’t have to hire another sitter or anything.”

She visibly winced and was thankful the cabinets hid her face. “Dad…”

“What.”

He was going to make her say it. “You know how I feel about that.”

“Mikasa,” he started, and she heard the rickety creaking of his recliner as he tried to stand up. While he was good at not showing any signs of pain, Mikasa was keen to recognize the grunts of pain and slight labored breath that echoed off the walls as she stood rigid, waiting to see if he would finally do it. “I’m out of the chair I can—“

She heard something fall to the floor and rushed over to find him leaning on the chair, his cup of tea on the ground, the handle completely fallen off—she picked up the piece and set them on the coffee table. “Dad, are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he bit out sourly, waving off her attempts to help him up. Instead, Mikasa looked around and found his cane by the door. Stubborn old man wouldn’t even use it in his own goddamn apartment.

“Here,” she sighed, groaning when she had to physically go get the cane and stuff it in his hand. “It’s this kind of shit that doesn’t let me change my mind,” she whispered, making his head snap up to meet her eyes—he looked sad. “I know you want to get back to normal, and I know you will, one day. But until then,” she crossed her arms and shrugged. “You have to accept that you have limitations. More so than you’ve ever had. You want to watch Mina, but you won’t even accept that you need your cane to walk around your own house.”

Levi stood a little straighter and wobbled past her to the kitchen table. “Did you come all this way to lecture me?”

“No,” Mikasa sighed. “I came to make you dinner.”

“Then maybe you ought to get to it.”

Thumping his head with her knuckles as she passed him, she let out a gasp of surprise when he stuck out his cane and made her trip—the counter tops were her saving grace as she braced her hands out to catch herself. “Smartass,” she growled.

“Shithead.”

“I’m making _my_ favorite dish instead.”

“Fine. I still like Lasagna.”

She frowned. That was Mina’s favorite, not hers. His legs were getting better, but his brain never quite caught up to speed. “You’re lucky I love you,” she growled, pulling out the chicken she had put in the fridge.

He surprised her with a quiet chuckle. “Hey,” he grunted, standing back up and wobbling over to where the broken cup was still on the table. “You think I can fix this?”

Unlikely. “Maybe you should ask Mina to make you another one.”

“No. I want this one.”

Mikasa rolled her eyes. Since when did her father get so damn sentimental? “I’ll try to glue it back on, but no promises.”

Levi picked up the cup and examined it with one hand, the other one leaning heavily on his cane. “Bet I can still use it without the handle.”

She snorted. “Until you drop it and break it _completely.”_

“Are you sure this happy-go-lucky magazine wants your pessimistic ass picking out and approving photos?”

Without much of a comeback, she stuck out her tongue. “I’ll still be making more money than you ever did.”

“Legally, perhaps.”

Oh, my god. “Unbelievable.”

She didn’t have to look up from the skillet to see her father’s smirk—it was practically burning a hole through the back of her skull. “You sure you still want me in your apartment, kiddo?”

“Yes,” she answered instantly, surprising him and even herself. “Of course I do.”

Slowly, he came up to stand beside her and reached up on his toes to kiss the side of her head. “Alright. I’ll try not to put up much of a fuss with the move.”

A sigh of relief. “Thank you, Dad.”

“But no promises,” he added on, if only to bring back the teasing mood. “Who knows, you might have to carry me out kicking and screaming.”

“No worries,” Mikasa shrugged. “It’s not like you can kick all that hard anymore.”

“Maybe not with my legs but,” he took his cane and whacked it on the back of her calves.

She didn't want to admit that it hurt, but, it hurt. “Ow! Dad!”

“Just proving a point.”

**Author's Note:**

> SHUT UP I KNOWWWWW. Let me have this fic just letjehkgjds. I'll add more characters as they appear, since I'm still working it out. Just sending the prologue out because....if no one's interested in the fic thennnnn I won't write it lmao. it's a very small demographic, this ship. But it's an interesting dynamic!!!! explore it with me!!!! love it with me!!!!!! love this rarepair w/ me pls I beg you. It's partially inspired by the Secret Life of Walter Mitty, but it shouldn't be all that similar.


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